Requiem
by MadCapMunchkin
Summary: Caric Cousland became the first Grey Warden in the history of Thedas to slay an Archdemon and live. Now, he wants nothing more than to run off with his beloved Leliana...but there's one last thing he has to do...


**A/N:** Okay, I maybe a bit late to the party, but I played from Dragon Age: Origins, and I absolutely loved it. And likely, if you're browsing the section for it here on the site, you're a fan as well. Well, I played through the Human Noble origin and romanced Leliana, as well as chose the ending where I got to save both myself and Alistair from death. So, if you don't know how that's done, or you don't want to know, I suggest you backtrack out, because the game's ending will be mentioned…

So, without further ado…

* * *

><p><strong>Requiem<strong>

She could understand it, how he could go from being so cheerful and so upbeat after the battle with the Archdemon in Denerim, celebrating with the new King and Queen of Ferelden and all of their friends and laughing and smiling to being how he was now. Two days away, heading toward the northernmost edge of Ferelden, back to his family's castle in Highever. His brother Fergus had wanted to come along with them, but duties to the new King had precluded that. Leliana found it funny how her love, Ferelden's new Chancellor, had been given leave by Alistair to come and go as he pleased while the various teyrns were left to their duty to their new King. But still, the younger of the two remaining Couslands wasn't needed for day to day duties around the Royal Palace.

Not that his Orlesian lover was going to complain. Leliana was glad to be alongside Caric as they travelled together again. At the camp, it had always seemed so crowded, so populated…their few intimate moments had always been…dampened, somewhat, but knowing that others were so close. It was just the two of them now, though. And while they would always have a place at Denerim, a suite that Alistair had personally commissioned for the two, both had wanted to travel in a world that was at least now somewhat safer with the Blight ended. Even with this, the two of them out on the road again, her love had taken a melancholy turn when they had left. She knew it would be such a way as they got closer to Highever.

"Are you alright?" She would ask as they walked through the wilderness, nothing but the quiet buzz of the wildlife around them.

"As much as I'll ever be." Caric would reply.

He never did tire of her questions or, if he did tire of them, he gave no indication of them. Leliana noticed that he didn't look at her much, at least when they were walking. At camp, he was keeping to himself. Some nights she would wake to find him keeping watch, his eyes unfocused, glazed over with unshed tears. Much as she had told him about her past with Marjolaine, Caric had (with a little encouragement) told her about his own past, and it wasn't hard to tell who those unshed tears were for. It was the same reason why Caric had carried two swords on his belt since before he'd first met her.

Caric's first blade, his most used one, was one he had picked up at Ostagar, not long after he'd joined the Grey Wardens. Alistair had told her that Caric had picked it up not long before they were waylaid in the tower by the darkspawn. It was a simple sword, no different from any others used by one of the Ferelden soldiers (save now for the rune now grafted into it that made blue-purple lighting dance around the blade whenever it was drawn), a simple blade that pointed at its tip and led straight down into a simple, pommel-less hilt. Leliana had seen him kill many darkspawn as well as the infamous Loghain with it. It was a blade that, in its short existence, had seen much and had been used for much. Darkspawn, humans, even werewolves had fallen before the blade.

But the other blade had far more interested her. It was atypical compared to the sword he used most often, and the only mark that Caric retained of his noble rank. Though Alistair and Morrigan had said he had used it before, Leliana had only seen him draw it once, and thus, only ever use it once. The day that their small band had broken into Arl Howe's estate at the behest of Queen Anora's servant, the day that Leliana had met Arl Howe for the first and last time. Caric had told her of what the man had done to his family, of how the Couslands had been killed all but him and his brother.

And that day, in that torture chamber, she had seen a darker side to her lover.

The day Arl Howe had let slip of what he had done to Bryce and Eleanor Cousland.

"Isn't that precious?" He had sneered when Caric had, in blind rage, promised to kill his wife and daughter. "Is this where I lament the monster I helped create? Let me show you how it's done: I made your mother kiss my feet before she died, it was the last thing your father saw. Meet my sword, and change that."

Leliana had never seen a man draw a sword so quickly after that and, luckily, that man had not been the Arl. It was also the first time she'd seen a conflict resolved so quickly. Howe had barely had time to draw his own weapons before Caric was upon him with that sword, his family's blade. With a cry of rare, the warrior had slammed his blades repeatedly against Howe's weapons, forcing the reprehensible man to give ground with every exchange.

After she, Wynne, and Alistair had dispatched with Howe's men, they turned to see Caric finally slam Howe to the ground with his shield, forcing him onto his back. It was then that the vengeance was of the Couslands was finally delivered. Caric's blade pierced Howe's gullet once, twice, three, four times in a rapid motion, blood flowing freely out of his newly created orifices.

"Maker…spit on you! I…deserved more!" He had spat with his last breath.

Leliana had heard that, and then had seen Caric turn, sheathing the sword again as he simply walked away from the corpse, covered in Howe's blood. And, granted, she hadn't had the time to ask if he was alright, in the chaos that followed with Queen Anora handing them all over to Loghain's elite guards, and then the Landsmeet and the battle against the Archdemon. Sure, they had had moments together, had slept in the same tent for those nights in between the Landsmeet and the final battle, but they hardly had time to speak, to rest. And Caric had seemed to push it off, not seeing it as important enough to deal with at the time.

And, apparently, in the joy of having slain the arch demon and lived (some doing of Alistair and Morrigan, they later discovered), Caric had forgotten about it and had moved on, she had thought. Now, though, she was not so sure. He didn't open up well to others, she knew. But it still wasn't good for him to do that to himself. Even so, Leliana would not bring it up, seeing as how he did not react well to it when she had tried to beforehand though, understandably, he had been under a great deal of stress.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice snapping her from her thoughts.

"Hmm?" Leliana blinked, turning back to Caric. "Oh…yes, yes, I am." And he laughed at her fast answer, that wordless exclamation she had learned to love from him.

"I would hope." Caric said, wearing the first smile she'd seen on him since they'd left Denerim.

"Of course…" Leliana said, nodding to him, mirroring his smile. "Are…are you?"

"Of course," Caric said, Leliana's eyes picking up only the tiniest fading to his smile, "why wouldn't I be?"

"You just have seemed…distant, since we left Denerim." Leliana said at length, her gaze never leaving his.

"Have I?" Caric asked. "I hadn't noticed."

"Maybe because you've been too busy being distant?" Leliana asked, giving him a pointed look.

"Like I said, I haven't noticed." Caric said, shrugging off this. When Leliana did not relent, her look still fixed on him, he sighed. "What's the matter?"

"You haven't spoken about what happened…back before the Landsmeet." Leliana said.

"You mean Howe?" Caric asked.

"Yes." Leliana said, nodding slowly.

"You were there." Caric said. "You saw what happened."

"Yes, I did. So did the others." Leliana said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He killed my mother and father." Caric said, his voice dropping a bit, the smile having completely left his face. "What should I have done?"

"I'm not saying you weren't well within your rights to," Leliana said, "it's just…you didn't want to talk afterward."

"There was nothing to talk about." Caric said. "It was finished."

"There was everything to talk about." Leliana said. "You…well, you avenged your parents…that isn't just nothing…"

"Is it supposed to be something?" Caric asked. "Howe paid for what he did. That's the end of it."

"Yes, but…the way it was done," Leliana said, "I just…I've never seen you like that before."

"And, hopefully, you never will have to again." Caric said quickly.

"I hope," Leliana said, "I won't lie, what I saw scared me. You had always just been so merciful. With Connor, or the werewolves in the Forest, or even with Loghain himself….before…you know…" But even to Loghain, Caric had shown mercy, even after all that he had done both the Ferelden and to the Grey Wardens.

"And then, even with Zevran…"

"Yeah, and see how well _that_ turned out." Caric said, laughing. It was true, Zevran had given the group the whole loyalty speech and had then turned on the group as soon as one of his friends from the Crows had shown up.

"Oh…maybe I'm just reading into something that isn't there." Leliana thought aloud, laughing a little bit as Caric ran his hands gently against her fingers.

"Just a bit, perhaps, my love," Caric said, smiling at her. Leliana smiled as she leaned over to press her lips against his for a moment, teasingly, before she backed away.

"Come on, we should get moving." She said, setting the path and leaving him to follow, wearing a satisfied smirk on her face. There would be plenty of time to stop her teasing in the bedroll later that evening.

* * *

><p>He did have a bit to talk about, but it just wasn't his way. Caric sighed deeply as he watched Leliana trotted off ahead, leaving him to follow in her wake. Opening up to her had been ridiculously hard, though the rewards had indeed been great. But still, even with her, the beautiful, spectacular woman he had fallen in love with, Caric didn't talk easily.<p>

"Come on, slowpoke!" Leliana called from several feet away, looking back from where her eyes had been scanning not only the path they were following, but the underbrush at the sides of the road. From her alertness, one might think that the Blight was still very active.

The Blight…where it had all started for him…

Caric remembered still being at Castle Cousland, when he had been a boy hearing the tales of the Blight. The stories of the old heroes had always excited him, of the Grey Wardens who fought tirelessly to defend Ferelden and indeed all of Thedas from the Blight and the Darkspawn. As a child, he had always loved those stories, and stories of the brave warriors who would throw themselves at entire armies for the sake of a lone maiden. They were all fanciful stories, of course, but they had inspired him down the path of the blade, learning to become a warrior like his father.

Which of course, it what caused him to be so irked when he was told that he could not go to fight the Blight with his father and brother. Caric had practiced diligently, could even take on his father's best soldiers could not take him on…and they got to go to war instead of him. Still, though, Caric accepted what his father had granted him – the job to watch over Highever while he and Fergus were at war. But Fergus had been the older brother, so it fell to him to join Bryce in the war against the Darkspawn. Caric had been disappointed, naturally, but he would obey. He always had, without question. But it was that night that Howe had turned on the Couslands, when his men ransacked Castle Cousland. The night had Caric had gotten to fulfill his lifelong dream of joining the Grey Wardens…by losing everything he had ever known.

Mother Mallol had always said that the Maker worked in mysterious ways, sometimes in ways that seemed cruel or terrible to they, the mere mortals. Caric, of course, had never blamed the Maker for the incident, he highly doubted that He would have sent Howe to attack the Cousland family and murder them and their servants, even if it was to bring another Grey Warden to battle the Blight that was brewing to the south. But, that was how it had turned out.

"Caric, are you coming?" Leliana asked, apparently having walked back while Caric was lost in his reverie, now not standing more than arm's length away from him and looking right at him.

"Huh." He blinked, looking back at her. "Umm…yes, sorry." Oh, boy…now she had that look again. The crinkled nose, the one arched eyebrow, the mouth opened slight as though she was about to say something to him. But, then, she just shook her head.

"Alright…c'mon…it will be dark soon," Leliana said, "I have yet to see a good place for us to set up camp."

"You talk like the Blight is still going on." Caric said, laughing.

"Darkspawn may not be so big of a threat, but there are always bandits to consider." Leliana said, her look fading into a more pointed one, razor focused upon his own. He laughed again. More of his love's concern for him, and no mistake, he knew.

"True, true," He said, nodding a bit as his laughter faded, "let's get going." With that, the two of them headed onward down the road. After a few moments, he looked to see that she was still not giving him that look and relaxed a bit when he saw that she wasn't. Leliana's gaze would have made him eventually spit it out, regardless of how much he didn't want to talk about it. Caric had thought it was that bard training, the way she could just pull the answer out of him. And she likely had wondered why he'd avoided her for the most part after dealing with Howe, how he'd only told her his goodbyes before he went off to slay the Archdemon that he assumed was going to kill him.

But it hadn't. It was only after the final blow had been struck that Caric realized the truth, that Alistair had taken the deal that he could not. He couldn't have done it. Not to Leliana, even if she had wanted him to do so, had wanted him to live through it. And she had indeed wanted him to accept Morrigan's plan, even as despicable as they both found the woman. But Caric had refused to even stoop to kiss the woman's lips. Not that he would have expected the same of others, not even of Alistair.

Alistair, Caric thought, was the better man for it. Holding nothing against him, and of course, grateful for the gift he had been given. Though he did often think of what Morrigan would do with Alistair's firstborn. From the terms of her deal, it certainly wouldn't be good…not in the least…

* * *

><p>"We should stop here for the night."<p>

Leliana turned to him as he spoke. They had been walking for quite some time that much was true, and night had all but engulfed the road they walked upon. Even Leliana's eyes wouldn't be able to navigate them far through the darkness before too much longer.

"Seems sound enough to me," Leliana said, heading off to the side of the road with him, to a field of grass under the shade of some trees, then taking her leather pack off of her shoulders and setting it down. Caric followed suite, having been the one to carry the tent and thus was now unrolling it from his pack. Though Alistair had wanted to grant the couple some new equipment for their travel, at the very least a new tent, the two had refused, taking only what provisions they could carry and heading off on their way after Alistair's coronation and the celebration following it.

Leliana chuckled. Caric had _hated_ the crowds and had been eager to leave Denerim. Then again, so had she.

"You gonna help me, or are you just going to sit there looking beautiful?" Caric asked, causing Leliana to realize that she'd been staring dreamily at him.

"What?"

"Because I could go either way at this point," Caric said, winking at her and making her cheeks go red for a brief moment. Of course, the bard quickly regained her composure.

"Yes, yes. Let's pitch this tent…" Leliana said, giving him a mischievous look with her double entendre, moving to assist him in getting their shelter set up.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, she would awake. It was still in the night, the stars were lit overhead and a half moon greeted her as she opened her eyes. When she sat up, the sheets of her bedroll providing her some modesty, she was greeted with a rather amazing sight when she peaked through the open flap of the tent.<p>

Caric stood at the edge of the dying fire they had built, clothed only in the undershirt and leggings he wore under his armor, his family's blade firmly grasped in his right hand. He swung it around in slow, practiced movements as though he were sparring against some invisible opponent. Leliana watched for the longest time as he twisted and weaved about in the footing he had learned, using skills that she had seen him kill many Darkspawn with. The minutes passed on, and she found herself entranced by him, just as she had been when they had first met in Lothering. It seemed so long ago, too…

"Hello." Caric said noticing that she had been watching.

'_Maker preserve me! Staring again…_' Leliana thought, chiding herself for getting lost in him. But then, she really shouldn't have, should she? Like she'd told him before, the Maker had taught his children to share and savor their blessings. And for her, he was that and more. Caric had brought her more in her life than she would ever appreciate, had made him feel loved and accepted, had kept her safe from Marjolaine when the Bard had come to exact her revenge upon her.

And he would have let himself die to see that she lived, he had planned on giving himself over when the Archdemon died so that she and all of Ferelden could live.

She remembered well that kiss, the last kiss that she thought that the two of them would ever share. The Archdemon had been felled and Caric was about to strike the final blow. He bit his farewells to Alistair and Wynne, and had told Leliana that he would always love her before he charged after the thing, slaying it outright…and lived to the surprise of all but Alistair. It had been at that moment that her heart had risen to new heights and had sunk to its deepest lows, knowing she had found the love of her life…and having wondered how she could have ever doubted it.

"You seem to have something on your mind." Caric said, having sheathed his blade and had come to crouch next to the flap of the tent.

"Oh, no," Leliana said, smiling coyly, "just admiring your eyelashes." She loved that joke, remembering the first time the two of them had spent the night together, how that had been one of the first things she had noticed upon waking up.

"As well as the rest of me, it seems." Caric said, chuckling as he sat down on the bedroll and coming back into the tent fully, apparently having quickly tired of balancing on the balls of his feet.

"What's not to admire?" Leliana asked. "You're such a gorgeous, nearly naked man standing before me with a sword."

"And pretty eyelashes," Caric said, and she could see the grin on his face, "don't forget those."

"I never could," Leliana said, beaming at her lover, "Now why don't you come back over here and leave your sword at the door? The bedroll is starting to get cold…" She grinned to match Caric's own as he entered the darkness of the tent, letting the flap drop behind him.

* * *

><p>The next morning came far too early for Caric's taste. Even with his training under Ser Gilmore that had seen him up before five in the morning, of his most recent travelling around with the group during the Blight that had always seen them up and on their way from a night's rest at around the same time (usually at Alistair's or Sten's insistence), the young Cousland had just never gotten used to early mornings. So when the sun greeted them through the browned fabric of their tent, he was somewhat surprised.<p>

Less surprised was he to find that Leliana was already up.

"You could stand to get up earlier, you know?" Leliana asked, fully dressed in her drakeskin leather, sitting at the fire which she had gotten back up and running while he had been sleeping. The cookpot had also been set up and she was working what smelled like a delicious stew with a wooden spoon. A good thing Alistair hadn't come with them, or it would have been more of that gravel. Caric had to laugh.

"I could," Caric said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, "but I don't think that'll happen."

"I'll break you in eventually, don't worry," Leliana said, giving him a glance, "we had early mornings in the cloister."

"So I understand." Caric said, dressing and donning his armor, slipping his underused blade from whether it had fallen in the tent the night before and back into its sheath, his other blade in the scabbard across his back.

"You look like you're getting ready for battle, not breakfast." Leliana said, chuckling a bit as she stirred the stew, watching Caric walk over to take a seat across from her at the fire.

"Father always taught me to be ready." Caric said, taking up one of the wooden bowls they had. He suddenly had more interest in the bowl than he did in the woman sitting across from him, not wanting to meet her eyes again.

"You miss him." Leliana said, though it took Caric a moment to realize that it was not a question. He nodded slowly. "There was nothing you could have done, Caric. You would have been killed too."

"I could have done…something. I…" Caric said as soon as she paused for breath. "I could've fought them…died with them…something…" He had told the Guardian the same thing, roughly, when they had gone to retrieve Andraste's ashes. He could have stayed and fought off Howe's men, and if Duncan had not been there, he would have died fighting. Sometimes, he really did hate Duncan for being there, for saving him.

"If you had died, then Ferelden would have fallen to the Blight." Leliana told him, the spoon resting on the edge of the cookpot.

"No, there could have been someone else…" Caric said, still looking at the bowl, the only thing he could look at without conjuring up tears. "Alistair…or…I mean…Duncan could have recruited anyone. But he chose me." Sure, he had helped, but it hadn't been him alone. Flemeth had come up with the idea for using the Treaties, Oghren had given the group some heft when dealing with the Dwarven Assembly, Alistair had killed Loghain and had kept all of Ferelden from falling into disarray by becoming King and taking Anora as his Queen…these and so many other things were essential to what they had done, and Caric was considered the Hero of the tale. For what? Slaying an Archdemon? Even that hadn't been something he'd done alone. He, Leliana, Wynne, and Alistair had fought their way to the top of Fort Drakon, and faced down legions of Darkspawn to bring down the Archdemon at long last, ending the Blight.

"He saw you for what you were," Leliana said, "a strong, brave man who would do anything to save Ferelden." That had been true. He had given his all to get to and slay the Archdemon, even offering his own life to slay the creature and end the Blight. Luckily for both he and the woman now sitting beside him that that last part did not have to happen.

"I suppose you're right." Caric said. Maker damn it, she had done it again! Her words undoing him, bringing up the point of view he had refused to see. Feeling her hand against his shoulder, he sighed deeply. "You're right."

"I usually am," Leliana said, the smuggest of her smug smirks on her face. He smiled again when she leaned over to press her lips softly to his cheek. "And I am glad Duncan recruited you, or we would have never met."

"Yes, that is true." Caric said, looking over at her, smiling. How was she able to do that? To cheer him up seemingly no matter what the problem was? He didn't know, nor particularly did he care, he was just grateful that she could. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Leliana said, smiling, "now, let's eat. If we finish early, we can get to the castle in a few hours." With that, she walked over and picked up the ladle from the small bundle of utensils that had been wrapped with care in the cloth.

* * *

><p>And there it was, Castle Cousland, his ancestral home. Here the Couslands had lived for generations. For a short time Howe had had his grubby mitts on the place, but now with Fergus as the new teyrn, the Couslands could continue their holding over the lands of Highever for the new King Alistair. And maybe, someday, so would Caric. The young man had never really thought of being Teyrn of Highever, politics had bored him as a child and his time had always been taken up with the tales of heroic warriors and the monsters they would slay…and, of course, spending his days practicing with his trusty sword.<p>

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Leliana asked.

"I have to," Caric said, nodding slowly, "I promised Fergus that I would." When what was left of their parents' bodies had been recovered from Howe's residence, Fergus had had them taken out of Denerim for burial. But Fergus, and the bodies subsequently, would not arrive for several days. Tradition among the Couslands dictated that the former teyrn and teyrna were laid to rest at the north side of their former castle. Caric had only been there once, at the age of four, when his grandfather had passed and Bryce Cousland had become teyrn. Now it was that Bryce and Eleanor would be buried, but nothing remained to mark a place for them.

Caric had come up with the solution to that. And now he walked among the headstones of his forbears, treading quietly so as not to disturb them.

"I've never liked graveyards…" Leliana said, "They always seem so…dreary…"

"They've always seemed…peaceful, to me," Caric said, "Provided we're not fighting off Ash Wraiths while traversing them."

"True, true," Leliana said, laughing softly out of respect. She was certain there were no Ash Wraiths awaiting them in the Cousland boneyards. Then again, they _were_ one of Ferelden's most powerful and influential families. It wasn't beyond reason that their graveyard might have been trapped. She cast a cautious look in Caric's direction.

"There are none, don't worry." Caric reassured her, shaking his head to deny her suspicion. With that, the bard carefully stepped onto the hallowed earth. Her feet finding solid ground and not the hideous grasp of a specter, she walked up to Caric's side. Caric laughed again.

"You did not find it funny when that Wraith grabbed me in the Gauntlet." Leliana reminded him.

"True, but I knew that either myself, Alistair, or Wynne was going to get you out of it." Caric said. He had really found the best team in the four of them. While he and Alistair had been able to go toe-to-toe with any threat that crossed their path, and Leliana could take out anything with either a bow or her two swords, it never hurt to have the bolts of lightning and healing bursts that Wynne had provided them. With all of this, they had been more than a match for that terrible Archdemon. Part of him had almost wished that Wynne could have come along, but she had her own duties to attend to. Alistair and Anora had appointed her the first Mage Adviser to the throne, and she was to remain in Denerim.

'_It's better with two, anyway._' He thought, looking over at Leliana. It was about there that Caric drew his blade, the Cousland Blade, from its sheath. He tested the weight in his hands. Closing his eyes, the young man inhaled the salt air drifting on the breeze from the ocean, not too far away. A path they could take, probably would take. He opened his eyes again and, with a heavy heart, forced the blade into the earth. When he stopped, the sword stood stable in the exact middle of its blade, a perfect marker for Fergus to find.

"Is that why you kept it?" Leliana asked. She wasn't going to say that there had been better blades. Of higher quality and durability, certainly, but to Caric, there was no better blade.

"No," Caric shook his head, his eyes fixed on the blade, "not originally, anyway. It was Howe…that was one of the last things that Mother ever said to me. She wanted me to use it to avenge the family…and I did," He backed away, looking to Leliana again. "I don't need it anymore. It is time it was returned to my family."

Leliana, he could tell from her expression, did not know what to say. He smiled.

"Can I have a minute?" He asked. His parents did not lie in the earth before him. No, their remains were far off on the road they had just travelled from Denerim. Now, he would speak with their spirits for the last time, Maker willing.

"Of course," Leliana said, stepping away and giving her love his space. With that, Caric turned back to where he had marked the graves, kneeling.

"Mother…Father…" Caric spoke softly, his eyes closed. "I will remember all that you taught me. I will live by the values you instilled within me. I love you both, so much…goodbye." He felt himself choking up, knowing that he had done well by them, down to the last. He had avenged them, brought Howe to his gruesome end, so that they could rest, and he had brought honor to his family even more so with ending the Blight and putting Alistair on the throne of Ferelden. The warrior closed his eyes, blinking away the tears. This was not a sad event, this was happy. His parents could go into the afterlife freely to sit beside the Maker and he…he could…

His eyes went over to Leliana.

He could live his life now.

Caric broke down completely when Leliana came to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, embracing a frame that dwarfed her own. His tears that rolled onto her shoulder were of relief. At last, it was over. And they…they could go anywhere.

"Sorry…" Caric said quietly, managing to stand again, looking back to Leliana. His eyes had dried by now, and he was calm again.

"You have no reason to be sorry, my love," Leliana said, "This was not easy, I know."

"Yes…" Caric said. "But now, we can go travelling…that's what they would have wanted, I think…"

"For you to travel?" Leliana asked, but Caric shook his head.

"To do whatever I want," He said, "that's what they would want, I think." Under the circumstances, yes, they would understand. His father had always told him that a time would come where he would forge his own path away from the Cousland name.

"So…what do you want?" Leliana asked, gazing dreamily up at him. Her answer came when his lips pressed against hers in a soft kiss.

"Guess." He said, smiling as he took her hand in his. With a step forward, the two started out of the graveyard and off to wherever the road would lead them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay, that was my first shot at a Dragon Age fic, as well as the test drive for a potential series. So, what do you guys think?Let me know in the reviews! And going along with this, lots of possibilities to run along with. I'm also currently playing the _Leliana's Song_ and _Witch Hunt_ DLC, so those may potentially come into play as well and I'm also planning on getting Dragon Age II, in spite of the reviews, mostly because I like the storyline...sue me. *grins cheekily*


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